Understood
by AtomicTwilight
Summary: It had always been there, but only now understood. BatmanxJoker oneshot.


Hello, everyone. This is my first BatmanxJoker slash, so be kind. I just wanted to make a little oneshot about the two fighting, and then such feelings come out.. Haha. Well, I would like to add that this was slightly inspired by 'Over and Over' by Kir Sirin. So, here it is, reviews are always appreciated, enjoy!

Batman gritted his teeth as the Joker giggled menacingly. He hated that stupid clown, hated him with a passion. The way his eyes twinkled with the secrecy of his twisted thoughts, the way his mouth lifted into a knowing smile. It scared Bruce. And that alone, made him livid enough.

Because Batman wasn't supposed to be afraid of anything.

And the thing that made him ball his fists, bite back a shout of agonizing frustration, was that he feared the Joker for all the wrong reasons. But Bruce would never allow that idea to even be born. The shadow of that thought lingered behind his everyday thoughts, waiting for exposure. But he wouldn't let it exist as anything more.

"So, you've come to stop me? To forcefully grab that darn little bomb of mine, knock me cold, and save the day? Is that what your plan is?"

Batman growled in reply.

The Joker cackled. "My dear, Batsy! I am _insulted_! I thought that by now, you'd have known me a little bit better."

"Where is the bomb going off?"

"I believe the correct question is—_when_ is the bomb going off-uh. Hmm?"

Batman took a threatening step forward, losing his temper. "_Joker, tell me which school you've put the bomb in._"

The jester lifted his eyebrows, and seemed completely unscathed by Batman's threat. "I thi_nk_…" he started, his voice lowering to a whisper, "…_ someone_… woke up on the wrong side of the cave this morning."

That was it, the last straw. A growl erupting from the depth of his throat, Batman grabbed the Joker by the collar and vigorously slammed him into the adjacent brick wall. "_Where is it_!?"

Despite his obvious pain, the Joker seemed to push it aside as he began to snicker without humor. His head lolled around, rolling on the auburn wall as he laughed and laughed.

Bruce closed his hand around the Joker's neck, his laughter suddenly decreasing. "Tell. Me. Now."

The Joker smiled. "Do you really think I would tell you? No, no, of course not, sweet-uh heart. I need you to figure it out for yourself. It is… If I s-say so myself, fairly obvious!" He whispered, choking. The lack of oxygen was beginning to crack his malicious voice.

Bruce tightened his grip, and hated to admit the pleasure he found in watching the Joker gagging, his mouth ajar, and his purple-gloved hands clutching Batman's wrists in desperation. But Batman needed him to be conscious at present moment, therefore he slackened his clasp around the man's neck.

The Joker drew in loud, guttural gasps as he struggled to catch his breath.

Bruce took a step back, watching him carefully as the gasping man cracked a grin.

"Aww," he taunted, "is that all you got, _Bats_? That's pretty disappointing."

Batman lunged again. In the midst of his fury, he could briefly remember his fist connecting with the Joker's head several times. He didn't care that the Joker was giggling maniacally all through the beating; it just drove him further into anger. He wanted to hurt him, he wanted to make him groan in _pain_, in _agony_, not amusement. But Batman wasn't certain if that was even possible.

Finally, he stopped. The Joker peered at him curiously as to wonder why he'd stopped. His face was splotched with blood, the ink of the night making it appear black. He stared expectantly at Batman.

Batman stared back.

And they both waited for the other to say something.

Snapping back, Batman cast his eyes aside, feeling uncomfortable that he'd caught himself embracing the depth of the Joker's hollow eyes. "Tell me where the bomb is," he repeated.

The Joker swept his tongue across his bottom lip. "There isn't one," he snickered snidely.

Bruce swallowed. He could do it, he thought. He could make the Joker talk. He had to, what else could he do? There was no possible way to find it on his own, considering the number of large schools in Gotham, and unknown was the time he had left. Gritting his teeth to keep in control, Batman grabbed the back of the Joker's head, bringing it close to his. Their noses were mere inches apart. "You said you wanted me to show up, didn't you? Why? If you hadn't planned on telling me where the bomb is, then _why do you want me here_?! Did you just want to _stall_?!"

The Joker smirked. "I can't tell you now, Batsy," he said, his voice low. "It'd spoil all the fun."

Batman had to gnaw harshly on the inside of his lip to restrain from noticing the tingle shooting down his body at the low growl. He'd imagined it was seductive, but it wasn't.

"It'll all come together, Batman, don't worry," he continued. Bruce felt the Joker hook his fingers around the back of his head. "And then, it'll be fireworks that you've never believed."

Batman's brow furrowed.

It was something of a surprise that the Joker did not giggle after the statement, and an even bigger one at the amused glint in his eye that was not there. The jester moistened his lips, and Bruce could feel the heat spawning from his mouth, touching his exposed flesh. "_I'm a man of my word_," he purred.

Bruce opened his mouth to sneer a cold reply, but was cut-off with an unbearably sharp, excruciating pain shooting through his left thigh. As the agony grew deeper, he felt all energy and strength part from him. His jaw twitching, his eyes widening, Bruce recoiled, dismissing the guffawing Joker.

Lamenting in pain, Bruce cowered back and starred down at his leg. A long, thick blade was completely lodged in his thigh, fat ropes of blood rolling down to the concrete ground. Batman ogled in horror.

The Joker wheezed a laugh. "Sorry, Bats! But a man's gotta do, what a man's gotta do," he said, breaking Bruce from his disturbed trance.

His jaw pulsing, Batman reached over and his stone fist collided with the clown's face.

Stumbling back slightly, the Joker cackled joyfully at the pain.

Bruce's lids grew heavy as he felt the life being drained out of him. His left leg felt heavy from the wound, the blood still streaming like a red river. He gripped the butt of the knife, in hopes of plying it out of his sore muscle. He flinched as inessential pain shot through to his bone; the scalpel wouldn't budge. "No," he whispered pathetically.

"No? _No_!?" The Joker teased, cackling. "Oh, I'm sorry, honey, I didn't _mean_ to hurt you that bad!"

Batman rested his hands on he tender flesh of his thigh, teeth always grinding in pain, when the Joker came to him, and clasped the knife handle. A low, pained yell erupted from his throat as the clown ripped it from his muscle.

He felt a hand on his cheek through the light haze of the sharp anguish. "Oh, shh, I'm so _sorry_, Batsy," he giggled. His gloved hand closed over the flooding wound.

Batman blinked, and starred from the Joker, to his wound, to the Joker, his wound, and then back to the Joker again. It was the intimacy of the action that made the discomfort squirm in Bruce; the act to place a hand on the inward part of someone's thigh was almost too personal, especially in their case.

The Joker did not move away, in fact, his nose just barely skimmed Batman's. His empty, coal eyes bored into his own hazel ones, and Batman felt the familiar, yet unwelcome gut-wrenching illness rise in his being. The feeling didn't have to be gut-wrenching, he knew, but the knowledge that it was for the Joker, made it rotten. Those stupid ideas appeared again, shadowing the entrance to his thoughts. Would he dare let them in?

Batman groaned as he was thrown to the opposite wall, his spine aching with the contact. The Joker appeared before him within seconds.

"Not, so fun, huh _Bat_man? Having someone throw you against a wall?" He moved his face closer to Bruce's, cupping his shoulders roughly. What was the Joker doing?

Even though the warmth seemed to be draining of him, Batman did a brave thing; he cast his gaze back to the Joker's. Endless, empty, electric pits of coal. But as the white moonlight touched the clown's face, Batman couldn't resist noticing the small specks of green in his eyes. And there was gold, in there, too. Looking into them now, Batman could have easily mistaken them for those of a vulnerable little boy, if it hadn't been for the pools of black paint framing them.

He wasn't sure what to think. What was the Joker planning? Was he going to kill him? Take advantage of his weak state? He could feel the Joker's chest rising and falling against his own, feel the pressure of the other's legs against his. There were very close, a mere inch was the only barrier.

It was at that point where it began to get confusing and blurry for Bruce. The Joker's lips somehow met with his; easily as placing a puzzle piece in the right position. The warmth of his blood-red lips made the world spin. His greasy, green curls fell past his face, tickling Batman's cowl. He could smell the scent that could only be labeled as the Joker; gunpowder, grape LifeSavers, and coppery blood.

Everything else ceased to exist for the moment.

Batman didn't even notice that he had been kissing back, or that his hand was traveling into the mass of green to press them even closer. He relished the Joker's hands softly gripping the side of his face, the other shoveling into his back. The idea that had been lurking just outside of Bruce's head had finally managed to slip inside, and overcome the fear and the reluctance. Now, it was overwhelming and the only thing that was.

The Joker was the one to break the kiss. He pulled back, only a little, enough to stare openly into Batman's clouded eyes. The two were breathing heavily, but did not take their hands back.

The Joker smirked. "See, it _did_ all come together. I told ya there wasn't a bomb, you silly goose," the Joker snickered.

Batman frowned. "There… _isn't_ a bomb?"

The Joker let a short laugh escape his lips. "Of course not! There was never a bomb. I tried to tell you earlier, but you didn't listen. What did you _think_-uh I was supposed to do? I had to come up with _something_."

Batman understood. The Joker didn't have to say anything, and neither did he. It had always been there, but only now understood.


End file.
